


The New Heir

by ladydragon76



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen, Rating: PG - Freeform, character: legolas, character: thranduil, genre: angst - Freeform, genre: drama, genre: fluff - Freeform, genre: hurt/comfort, hobbit/lotr, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> After the Battle of Five Armies life in Mirkwood’s palace will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Heir

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** AU… So AU.  
>  **Notes:** Ok, so I was… 7 or 8 the first time I read _The Hobbit_ , and it’s been… oh… 12-ish years or so since I last reread it fully. Anyways, stuck in my head since childhood has been this bit about that last battle where it was mentioned that the Elvenking had lost his eldest and heir, and his second son lay mortally wounded, or something like that. It’s a PRETTY specific memory, but there is NOTHING I can find in either of the editions I currently have (neither of which are the very first edition as Tolkien originally published the story) or online to back it up. Twin is a bigger Tolkien addict than even me, and she doesn’t recall that at all either.
> 
> Whether I misread as a kid, my imagination made it up, or what, I have this very OLD sense of feeling sad for the Elvenking for losing his heirs and not having a queen to even try again. Then LOTR and yay! Legolas! The Elvenking must’ve had a third son, too young to be at the battle! Go Tolkien for adding him in late to the game! Thranduil’s line won’t die with him!
> 
> So there ya go, the premise for this scene from my melon to your puter screen. I make NO claims to being right, as.. plainly I can find no proof and it’s been so long gods only know how my mind combined things to make me believe it was true until I JUST TODAY proved to myself that it’s not true, there is no proof. I still like the idea though, so here we go.

**Title:** The New Heir  
 **Fandom:** Tolkien’s Works: Post- _The Hobbit_  
 **Series:** None  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Characters:** Thranduil, Legolas  


**The New Heir**

 

News had, of course, reached Legolas very shortly after the Battle concluded. He’d obeyed his father’s relayed orders and remained in the palace, attending his few duties and keeping up a brave face for those others left behind to guard their home.

But now, in the dark, with their peoples’ songs echoing in the stone halls, Legolas trembled with the strain of fighting back the grief. He pushed open the door to his father’s chambers and slipped into the shadows the dim candlelight couldn’t dispel.

“Father?” Legolas whispered.

Thranduil turned from the painting he had been staring at, moisture shining on his face. He reached out a hand toward Legolas, the other setting aside the goblet of wine. Legolas crossed the room at a near-run, his own tears finally freed. If the Elvenking could cry, then he was allowed to as well.

Thranduil gathered Legolas close and held him tight for a moment before moving them both to a low, plush couch. Legolas clutched his father’s robes and wept messily for them both.

“I remember when your mother told me you were to be born,” Thranduil said, hand smoothing over Legolas’ hair once he’d calmed a little. “I was overjoyed. I had my heir, and he was a serious, strong, but fair spirit. He would have been a better king than me someday. I also had a second son, one to assist his brother. He was wise for one so young, able to see all sides of things. The best sort of advisor. One who would not fear to speak sense to a king.”

He paused, breath hitched as he inhaled and exhaled in a gust. Legolas wiped at his face, but remained curled against his father’s chest. “And then you came,” Thranduil continued, voice thick. “Your gender mattered not to either of us, though I was glad to see another boy. A daughter might someday be called upon to broker an alliance by marriage. A third son, however, would be more free.

“You were spoiled from the moment of your birth. How your brothers adored you, so much younger than them. And your mother, for the short time we had with her after you came… You are so much like her despite how you take your appearance more from me.”

Legolas shifted, his arms lifting to circle his father’s neck, and Thranduil pulled, more than strong enough to lift even his adult child into his lap with ease.

“Spoiled, but it never tainted you.” Thranduil’s cheek rested on the side Legolas’ head, and he rocked slightly side to side. “I never wanted this life for you. You were our little Greenleaf. My darling, beautiful child. A gift late in life never looked for but cherished instantly.”

Legolas felt his cheeks heat, embarrassed though he’d grown up knowing nothing but adoration from his father and brothers, his faded memories of his mother. It was different to hear now, but he let his father talk, the sound of his voice soothing. He wanted to speak of his brothers, but perhaps that wasn’t what his father needed? He’d lost brothers. Thranduil had lost sons he’d held as babes, loved for centuries longer than Legolas had even been alive. He may have been favored and doted upon, but he did not doubt his father’s love for his elder sons at all. Perhaps it was just too much yet.

“It breaks my heart that I can no longer allow you to run in the trees and hunt our enemies so freely,” Thranduil said. “I must lay a heavy duty on your shoulders, and while I know you are strong, you’ve never been prepared in the least for all that is now suddenly your responsibility.” Another breath shuddered out, and his arms tightened around Legolas. “I’ve coddled you and I can’t regret it, but I feel so very guilty for not better preparing you for this burden.”

Legolas tipped his head back, looking at his father’s grief-stricken face before kissing his cheek. “You should not feel guilty for that.” He brushed at his own face again, trying to force away the tears and show he was strong. “My tears are for our loss, not this new task I have before me. I miss them so-” His breath caught, and for a moment he could only sit with his eyes shut and wrestle himself for control over his emotions.

Legolas opened his eyes as Thranduil’s hand cupped his face. “I did not think you wept for any other reason, but I see I’ve still underestimated you.” He tugged gently, and Legolas let his eyes shut again as his forehead rested against his father’s. “Tomorrow, my son. Tomorrow will be soon enough to concern ourselves with duty and responsibility. Let us remember your brothers and grieve, just do not fade and leave me.”

“I won’t!” Legolas couldn’t even think it. Abandon his father to even _more_ pain by selfishly succumbing to his own grief? Never. His brothers would be sorely disappointed in him besides.

They were both quiet for a moment after that, Thranduil still rocking side to side, one arm holding Legolas tight, the other hand cradling the back of his head to keep their foreheads pressed. When he finally moved, it was to tuck Legolas back against his shoulder.

“Do you remember the last time I held you thus?”

Legolas had to think back, then smiled. “I had been convinced that a rare bird was haunting the branches of a certain garden tree, slipped, and managed to knock all the air from my body.”

“I was so angry with them, but beside a few bruises you were fine.”

“And determined to find that bird still. You wouldn’t let me climb trees for weeks after that.” Legolas smiled, watching his fingers as he plucked at one of the emeralds on the front of Thranduil’s robes. “Whoever heard of a Wood-elf that didn’t climb trees?”

Thranduil hummed at the memory. “And how long was it before they were sneaking you off places I wouldn’t catch you climbing?”

Legolas chuckled. “Three days. Of course that was with the admonishment that if I fell again, I had to stand before you and take the full blame of my misdeeds.”

Thranduil laughed a little himself, shaking his head. “They’d never have gone through with that.”

“No.”

They fell again into silence, and Legolas relaxed until he was surprised into alertness by movement.

“No, do not wake, child. We can speak more in the morning.”

Legolas nodded, shifted over on the bed enough that his father could lie down as well. It’d been a long time since he curled against that solid body to sleep, but he didn’t care how childish it was, or that his legs were too long to tuck up and still allow Thranduil to curl around him and keep him safe. He would be his father’s child tonight because they both knew that after they left this room everything was going to change, and this time, Legolas didn’t have adoring big brothers to nudge and support him along the path.

A few more hot tears spilled free to soak into the thick velvet covering his father’s shoulder, but then sleep took Legolas away again, where he dreamt of mischief and the smiling, beloved faces that watched over him.

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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